🔗 Share this article Some Like It Hot: The Argument Against Frosty Festivities Pale in Comparison to Celebrating in Summer. If we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. Is that so? The powers that be residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is fraught enough – regardless of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all. A Chilly Childhood And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my formative years experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The style options; layering is effortlessly chic. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly magical. The snug appeal of a chilly celebration is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family on the other side of the world, I always felt I was lacking an true celebration that not even the richest hot chocolate could replicate. A Move to Summer Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a full festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a larger group to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a potent vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night. This became our tradition for years – celebrating together with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents answered the call of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England. A Revelation in Reverse Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate. "That summer heat eased the grief in significant ways." This feeling was cemented after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun helped ease the grief in profound ways. A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite All this said, I must confess to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a snowfall. The frosty festive ideal still has a slight grip on me! Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always craved. Not even the deepest powder can compare to that feeling.
If we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. Is that so? The powers that be residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is fraught enough – regardless of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all. A Chilly Childhood And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my formative years experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The style options; layering is effortlessly chic. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly magical. The snug appeal of a chilly celebration is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family on the other side of the world, I always felt I was lacking an true celebration that not even the richest hot chocolate could replicate. A Move to Summer Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a full festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a larger group to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a potent vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night. This became our tradition for years – celebrating together with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents answered the call of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England. A Revelation in Reverse Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate. "That summer heat eased the grief in significant ways." This feeling was cemented after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun helped ease the grief in profound ways. A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite All this said, I must confess to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a snowfall. The frosty festive ideal still has a slight grip on me! Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always craved. Not even the deepest powder can compare to that feeling.